


Clash of Wills

by tehtacticianmagician



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Action, Comedy, Crossover, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sparring, Spoilers for Genealogy of the Holy War, spoilers for Shadows of Valentia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehtacticianmagician/pseuds/tehtacticianmagician
Summary: During a sparring match between Berkut and Alm, Alm lets something slip that he shouldn't have. Berkut has to deal with this newfound revelation while partaking in a dangerous mission with less-than-ideal teammates and the summoner's eccentricities.





	Clash of Wills

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from my sister that I decided to take because I've been in a writing mood recently. This is also my first fanfic on ao3 so I'm not sure if I'm posting this right. If there's anything that's off (or you have constructive crit in general) please let me know! Thanks for reading!

The sound of metal colliding against each other rang out over the castle courtyard. Two young men were deeply invested in their sparring match against each other. One boy with short green hair wielded an ornate sword in his left hand. His opponent was bigger, taller, and fought with a silver lance with intricate markings. At a glance, it may look like that the darkly garmented man should win this battle. His movements showcased the vast strength he had. His technique displayed his years of strict training. The armor he wore was finely crafted.

Yet, he was losing. It was all because of that damn skill of his. Berkut tried to keep him at a distance with the point of his lance to keep the biggest advantage he had over a sword fighter. But Alm would charge at him like that lance meant nothing to him anyway. He wasn’t aiming for a direct hit, however. With a swing of his sword, he generated a fierce gust of wind that stunned Berkut for a second or two. That allowed Alm to strike at his lance once to disorient him further, and then land another attack on the young nobleman himself. He moved so fast, Berkut couldn’t counterattack before he danced away out of range.

“That’s the second time I’ve caught you off guard like that, Berkut.” The boy commented as he readied for a retaliation. “Don’t tell me that you’ve given up already!”

“As if!” Berkut snarled. The unnatural skill his foe had with the sword wasn’t the worst thing about him. It was his damn attitude. He spoke as if they were sparring for fun. Like they were friends. He couldn’t stand it. He had to win this duel, and show him that this wasn’t a damn game. He was the heir to the Rigelian throne, and if he couldn’t beat this Zofian peasant in this strange world, what hope would he have in prevailing when he returned home?

A primitive yell escaped from Berkut’s throat as he lunged forward with his spear. If staying on the defensive wouldn’t work, then he had no choice but to launch an all-out offensive. He actually managed to surprise Alm with his ferocity, who attempted to dodge around him. Berkut sensed his movements and swung his lance outwards to hit him. The side of his lance smacked him in the shoulder, causing him to stumble onto the ground. Alm quickly rolled back onto his feet while Berkut grasped his weapon with both of his hands to regain control of its momentum.

“Hah! That’s more like it!” Alm had a faint smile on his face. “Let’s see how you like this though!”

He brandished his Falchion and dashed forward. Berkut braced himself for the upcoming blow, but he felt something different this time. This charge exudated an aura of power. His left hand that clutched the golden hilt seemed to radiate enough heat to distort the air around it. At the last possible second, Berkut opted to evade the attack instead. But he moved too little, too late. His lance was in an awkward position when Alm’s blade smashed onto it. Somehow, the heat that enveloped the sword also warmed the metal shaft until even he could feel it through his armored gloves. That, combined with the sheer force of the attack, made Berkut let out an undignified yelp and release his weapon. His lance fell to the side while the young man lost his balance. Luckily, he didn’t fall to the ground completely. But he has been disarmed and humiliated. He glowered at Alm with contempt, even while his sword was aimed at his heart. If this was a real fight, he would be dead now. But as this was only practice, Alm prodded his black chestplate before returning the divine blade to its sheath.

“That was a good match! You almost got me with that lunge back there!”

Berkut had no words for him. Only glares. He picked up his dropped lance and swung it to check its condition. Still intact. The blacksmiths of this world were truly a breed apart.

“Hey Berkut. Aren’t you going to tell me how I did?”

“Hmph.” This boy won’t leave him alone until he got his answer. So he might as well give him one. “Your moves are predictable as always. You bested me only because you have Uncle’s sword and some… unearthly power. If you were to fight someone that matched your caliber, you would most certainly lose.”

“So… You’re saying that you’re weaker than me? You’re actually admitting that?”

“No!”

Alm only laughed at his abrupt denial, to Berkut’s annoyance. “But you’re right about what you said, Berkut. Sometimes I do think I only get by because of my Falchion. Maybe next time, I should spar with you without it?”

His Falchion. Why does he have the national treasure of Rigel, anyway? The only explanation Berkut could think of was that this Alm actually conquered the Rigel of his world and seized her blade for himself. That would also explain why he was so absurdly strong. Not that he was making excuses or anything.

“Next time. What makes you think that there will be a next time?”

“Well… why not?”

“Because there are other wielders of legendary weapons in Askr. There’s a samurai with a blade of lightning. A general with armor and a sword blessed by a goddess. There are numerous Heroes that have slain evil dragons and fallen gods. So why waste your time with me?”

Alm’s eyes widened and the smile fell off of his face. He fumbled with his words for a bit while searching for an adequate response.

“Because I like sparring with you! I never got a chance to do that in my world. At least, not like this. We were at each other’s throats back then. Here, I can enjoy fighting like we’re family.”

“Family?” Berkut snarled. He would never associate that word with this contemptible boy so freely. So why was Alm clearly deluded now?

“Yeah! I didn’t find out that we were cousins until after my father, King Rudolph, passed away. He said that- Hello?”

He stopped mid-sentence when a look of utmost shock crossed Berkut’s face. All color drained from his skin as he struggled to comprehend what Alm had so casually blurted out.

“Cou… sins…?”

“Um. You didn’t know that either. Didn’t you.”

Berkut gripped his lance so tightly, the clawed fingertips of his glove bored into the metal plating of his palm. It was all a lie. Yes. If this boy really was Uncle’s son, then why wasn’t he the rightful heir to the throne? Why was he leading an army of peasants and washed-up nobles? It made no sense. Clearly his exploits in his world have gone to his head, causing him to actually proclaim himself to be kin with the emperor he had just slain. There was no other rational reason why-

“Berkut!” The voice that brought him out of his frenzied thoughts did not belong to Alm, but to a hooded woman that scurried towards him. Kiran was looking frazzled as usual, undoubtedly because she finally found the person that she was looking for.

“There you are! Horse Emblem Squad B is ready to set off! Are you coming or not?”

Berkut turned his gaze towards Kiran, his eyes instantly softening. He had no qualms with this lady, no matter how odd her mannerisms and team names were. She treated him with the respect he deserved and did not make up crazy lies like Alm did.

“Of course.” He said coldly like he didn’t have an earth-shattering fact revealed to him. He didn’t even spare a glance back towards Alm as he left with the summoner. After all, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to stop himself from skewering him the next time he saw him.

* * *

Their destination was a cold, grey, castle at the base of snowy mountains. Or at least, that was what it appeared to be. In reality, this was the highest stratum of an enigmatic tower that produced illusions of both battlefields and enemies to populate them. Kiran called it the ‘Training Tower’, which was a disrespectful yet apt name. Many Heroes frequented its floors to improve their skills, acquaint themselves with different environments, and most importantly, build bonds with teammates both new and old.

It was fortunate that Berkut was paired with familiar teammates today. He was not in the mood to deal with anyone else after hearing Alm’s lie. Although his partners for this mission were barely better than strangers. Besides Kiran, he was accompanied by a knight named Sigurd, a troubadour named Elise, and a dark knight named Leo. Sigurd was a leader of a country, a man of good character, and actually a competent swordsman, so he was the most tolerable teammate present. Leo, on the other hand, claimed to be a prince of the kingdom of Nohr, but what self-respecting prince would wear his collar inside-out and talk about his love for tomatoes so often? His sister, Elise, was just as bad or even worse than him for different reasons. She was a childish, immature brat that had no concept of boundaries or dignity. If this is what passed for the nobility of other kingdoms, he was glad that Rigelian nobles has not and will not fall to their level.

Unless if what Alm said was true. No matter how hard Berkut tried to focus on the task at hand, he couldn’t get that damn word out of his head. Cousins? With that peasant boy? The idea was laughable, maddening, sickening. He had no reason to believe his lies, and yet…

“Berkut? Is something wrong?” A high-pitched voice asked from behind him. Berkut didn’t need to turn around to know who was talking to him.

“No. Nothing is wrong.”

“Are you sure? Your face got really pale just now.”

“I. Am. Fine.” Berkut pivoted his head and enunciated his sentence so Elise would understand. But of course the perky ‘princess’ didn’t pick up his not-so-subtle cue to leave him alone.

“Is it the snow? If you’re cold, you can have my cloak.”

“I am not cold. This kind of weather in Rigel would be considered fair.”

Besides, if he accepted her cloak, the frail girl would be left with nothing to warm her. Annoying as she was, Berkut could never leave a lady in that sort of predicament.

“Was it the spar with Alm then?” Elise pouted as if the mock fight was a one-sided act of bullying. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“How did you know about that?”

“It’s kind of hard not to know about it! Your yelling wakes up everyone in the nearby tower! Including me! Would it kill you to not practice so early in the morning?”

Berkut scoffed. One minute, she had misplaced concerns for his well being. But then the next minute, she used his response to launch a complaint. Honestly. If she wasn’t his teammate and the only source of healing here, he would have ended this conversation right then and there.

“That could hardly be considered ‘early’. The sun had already risen. Any knight worth their weight would be well awake by then.”

“I was woken up by your racket as well!” Leo glanced backwards to refute Berkut’s statement. “Even my older brother and sister were not nearly as loud as you two when they spar. And I’m certain there are others that share the same sentiment when we come back.”

“Berkut is right, however.” Thankfully, the last member of this team agreed with him. “You two slept in far too late and barely woke up in time to prepare for this mission. Perhaps it was a good thing that Alm and Berkut were particularly raucous this morning.”

Alm’s name made him flinch even when Sigurd said it. Gods, why can’t he be free from that boy for one second?

“You’re looking pale again Berkut. Really, was Alm too rough on you? If you need healing, I’m here to help!”

“No. I have no wounds that need tending to.” At least, none that he knew of. He didn’t have time to check for any bruises before he was whisked away to the Training Tower.

“Was it something he said then?” Why won’t this damn child shut her mouth? “The trash talk between two guys can be brutal sometimes!”

“He didn’t-” But Berkut couldn’t truly say no to her question. It wasn’t ‘trash talk’ persay, but Alm’s words still rattled him more than any ordinary insult would have.

Unfortunately, his split second of silence confirmed their theories “I didn’t take you for a man that was so easily upset by words.” Leo noted. “What did he say to you? We can’t have you distracted while in enemy territory.”

“I-” Damn it all! He didn’t want to repeat his words to them. Even if they’ve fought in multiple battles together, they were still practically strangers in his eyes. Why did this conversation have to take a turn like this? They were supposed to be training, not forming an impromptu group therapy session.

“Alm told him that they are cousins.” Kiran turned around with a smug smile on her face. She was seated behind Sigurd, so she was free to glance around while the blue-haired lord steered their horse. “It’s totally true, by the way. You need to read some of the books about Valentia in the royal library sometime.”

“Damn you!” Berkut told hold of his spear and pointed it in Kiran’s direction. He couldn’t hurt her, of course. There was some unspoken magical spell that prevented a summoned Hero from harming their summoner. But he could still rage at her. Threaten her for revealing something that was his and his alone.

“Well color me surprised.” Leo murmured.

“Cousins? You and Alm? No way!” Elise gasped.

Berkut waited for Sigurd to say something to round out the reactions. But he remained silent, his eyes focused on the road ahead. The lack of a response unnerved him more than he expected. Partially because it meant that he actually somewhat valued the older knight’s opinion. If only he could at least see his face…

“You know what that means?” Elise beamed at him. “That means we have something in common! Besides being royalty, we also have family members we didn’t know about at first! Like I didn’t know I had another older sister until I met Azura! Hey, was Alm kidnapped by enemy spies too?”

He noticed that she directed that last question at the summoner. Kiran didn’t answer her directly but just shrugged.

“It didn’t say how he came to Zofia. All I know is that Alm was Emperor Rudolph’s firstborn son and ends up inheriting the empire after the war ends.”

“What?!” Berkut couldn’t hold his rage back any longer. The revelation that this boy became the next emperor over him shocked him too much.

“How did a child like him become king over me?! I have been training, fighting for the crown since I could wield a sword! So why?! Answer me this, Summoner!”

Berkut swung his lance at Kiran once more. He still wasn’t planning on hurting her, but he needed to make his point clear. The fact that all his sweat, blood, tears, and love for the throne ended up being for naught was unacceptable. He needed answers. Now.

Unfortunately, she was able to give him any. With another nonchalant shrug, she replied, “The books weren’t clear about what happened to you nor Rinea at the end of the war. But since you weren’t mentioned afterwards, I’m guessing you died.”

He died? He was at first surprised to hear about his demise as any sane individual would. To be cut down during his prime at the hands of the enemy was a cruel fate indeed. But as he thought about it more, the more appealing the idea became. Instead of His Majesty skipping over his own nephew and appointing his ‘long lost son’ as the next king of Rigel, Berkut instead fought valiantly against Alm’s army and lost. It still stung, of course. Especially since his beloved Rinea’s fate was still unknown. But his own reasonings made Kiran’s words more palpable.

Much more palpable. In fact, hearing about his own death concerned him less than Alm’s inheritance of the kingdom or even the relationship between him and Alm. He supposed that it was because he was a knight and dying on the battlefield was always a realistic outcome. But who could have honestly known about Alm’s secret bloodline or the twist in fate that lead him to becoming king? Actually, Alm must have. To be specific, this Alm that was summoned to Askr and has been toying with Berkut ever since. He knew that his ‘cousin’ would be slain in the not-so-distant future. So he pitied him. He challenged him to sparring matches so that Berkut would have a chance to beat him, something that he would never get in his world. He treated him with kindness and respect, even if he never deserved it, because he was a dead man walking.

It was humiliating. So humiliating, Berkut started laughing at himself like the fool he was. He was so blinded by his hate for Alm, he played along and fed into the boy’s self righteousness. His laughs became so maniacial that the others stopped and stared at him worriedly.

“Uh, Berkut? Are you ok?” Elise readied her staff in case an intervention was needed.

“He’s clearly gone mad.” Leo sighed. “Kiran, why did you have to tell him about his death?”

“I didn’t really tell him! I just… implied it? I think he was going crazy in the first place anyway. It didn’t matter if I said anything or not.”

“It does matter! Because now we’re stuck on the Tenth Stratum with an insane man and no way out!”

“I don’t believe he is as crazy as he looks right now.” Sigurd’s calm voice nonetheless startled the other two cavaliers. “Everyone reacts to the foretelling of their deaths differently. Berkut is simply trying to cope with… humor.”

“Really?” Leo raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. “I know that you know more about how to deal with your own death than anyone else here. But that’s definitely not the ‘haha’ kind of laughter.”

Berkut’s continued cackling only drove the mage’s point home. Sigurd donned a perturbed expression along with the others when it hadn’t ceased for several minutes. Eventually, he had to stop in order to catch his breath. While he was silent, save for the heavy heaving of his chest, Sigurd slowed his horse so that he could trot alongside him.

“Berkut my man. I know that learning about your death and that your most hated enemy is in fact your cousin and the rightful king is a lot to take in for one day. But both are neither here nor there. You’re in Askr, surrounded by friends, and you can take a moment to focus on something that doesn’t pertain to your bleak future.”

“What, are you pitying me too?” He didn’t have the energy to laugh anymore, but he could still scoff at the older knight.

“Not at all.” Sigurd was slightly taken back by his harsh response but recuperated without hesitation. “I’m speaking from experience. When I learned about what will happen to me, I was also consumed by dark thoughts. I thought about how to stop the massacre that would take place, how to prevent my dear comrades from sharing my fate, how to give my son Seliph the future he deserved… It was especially hard when my murderer was also summoned into this world as a Hero. But we’re not here to change our destinies. No, our mission is to serve the Order of Heroes, which will in turn save many more worlds. Including mine and yours. So I’m merely asking you to focus on the task at hand.”

Berkut merely scoffed at the older lord’s speech. Out of the three other Heroes here, he would have the most experience with this bizarre situation. So even an anguished man like himself could hear the sincerity and genuine concern in his voice. Yet, he couldn’t bare his soul to him like Sigurd just did. He could hardly deal with the implications of his death, Alm’s lineage, and the futures of both Rigelian heirs privately. If he spoke of his worries out loud, who knows what might happen to his image and dignity thereafter?

Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything more on the subject. The team had finally arrived at the gates of a formidable castle. Its cold, lifeless exterior and the gusting winter winds that blew around it reminded Berkut of his home, Rigel Castle. But there were no platoons of soldiers on guard outside of its walls. Nor were there any torches lit inside to indicate the presence of any inhabitants. In fact, the only people present was a pink-haired armor knight at the left gate and a dark-haired myrmidon at the right. Even though it appeared that there were only two enemies present, Berkut could tell at a glance that they possessed great power. As expected of illusionary guardians that protected treasure within.

Kiran muttered to herself while jotting down notes and figures inside a book. She had the uncanny ability to judge the strength and to assess the weaponry and skills of an opponent, even from a distance. Despite her sometimes unusual behavior, she was a sound tactician and everyone could always rely on her to come up with a strategy that didn’t result in casualties.

“Ok. Berkut and Leo will attack the left gate. Leo will assault the armor knight with spells while Berkut will prevent her from getting too close to him. There’s also an archer paired up with the knight, so be careful. If either of you get too hurt, retreat and let Elise take care of your wounds, ok? And Sigurd will attack the right gate. Your job is to make sure we don’t get flanked by the myrmidon or anyone else inside the castle. So don’t pursue the enemy inside, or at least not until Berkut and Leo have dispatched the other guards. Got it?”

“Yes.” Berkut affirmed while the others made similar remarks. Kiran got off of Sigurd’s horse so he could fight unencumbered and joined Elise instead.

“Alright! Let’s move out!”

The four horsemen spurred their mounts forward and charged into the battlefield. Sigurd splintered from the group as planned and Elise lagged behind to stay out of enemy range. That left only Berkut and Leo to take on the armor knight and the supposed archer with her. Berkut couldn’t see the archer right now, but he supposed that he’ll show his face soon enough.

Behind him, Leo recited a series on incomprehensible words. Berkut had to time to glance over his shoulder, but he could feel a wave of energy emanating from the mage’s tome. It didn’t result in anything at first. But a few seconds later, the ground quaked underneath the armor knight. She readied herself for the upcoming blow, but nothing could prepare her for the tree that suddenly erupted out of the earth and entangled her in roots and branches. Even though these foes were just mirages, she let out a very human cry as she struggled to free herself.

That signaled the chance to strike. Berkut charged forward with a raised lance. An arrow zipped over his head, indicating that the archer joined in on the fight. He was able to dodge his volley, however, and rammed his spear into the knight as soon as he closed in. The knight, although trapped, was able to lift up her shield in time to stop the lance from driving itself into her heart. Berkut veered away but dashed towards her again to strike for a second time at a different angle. The point of his lance connected with side but only gouged the surface of the armor there. Worse, it seemed like the impact of his attack shook the knight free of Leo’s spell. She swung her own lance at Berkut and he was barely able to avoid getting hit.

Now that she was mobile again, Berkut had to be more careful about how he charged. Ordinarily, if it was just the two of them, he would have dodged her attacks with ease and landed many of his own powerful blows while he danced around her. But that damn archer on top of the castle wall made the scenario more difficult. He had to be mindful of his arrows as he moved about. As he backed away to evade another attack from the knight, he caught a glimpse of an arrow flying towards him. He was forced to make a sidestep into the enemy’s lance, who seemed to have anticipated his movements. Berkut tried to deflect the incoming attack with his own lance but it powered through his swing and slammed into his right side. His armor absorbed most of the blow but the collision still left the area numb with pain. Once the knight drew her weapon back in, he urged his horse to back away even further, and not just to stay out of her range. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on their ends as Leo released another surge of magic. A second tree rose up from the ground and ensnared the knight again in its woody embrace. Berkut took the opportunity to dart in and land a few more choice strikes. His hits all connected with weak spots in her damaged armor, but he wasn’t able to break it completely before she untangled herself from the vines once more.

This time, the knight seemed to have given up on all notion of defense and started barreling towards Berkut with alarming speed. Or more accurately, towards Leo, who was in the middle of another conjuration. Remembering the summoner’s strategy, Berkut ran after the knight and parked himself in between her and the mage to protect the vulnerable spellcaster. He thrusted his lance at her to drive her away, but she held up her shield to block it. As his weapon glanced off the metal obstruction, the knight raised her own lance and swung at Berkut, who was a bit too close to completely dodge in time. His horse was forced to take the brunt of the hit, right in the ribs. And although its armor prevented it from being eviscerated right then and there, the blow still had enough strength behind it to push it back and almost knock it over.

Thank the gods that the horse managed to stay on all four of its feet. If it had fallen over, Berkut would have been stuck and the knight would be able to skewer both of them. But his horse’s stumbling gave the archer a chance to line up a shot and fire at an easy target. And the arrow he fired wasn’t an ordinary arrow. Its tip seemed to be made of fire itself as it flew towards his head. A well-timed sidestep enabled him to dodge an otherwise fatal shot. Instead, the burning arrow pierced through his left pauldron. Berkut cried out in pain but held himself together long enough to pull his horse away from another jab of the enemy’s lance.

“Berkut!” He vaguely heard the summoner shouting his name in the distance. “Get back! You need healing!”

No he didn’t. Although his shoulder burned with pain, the thought of fleeing from these two foes pained him even more. He knew that he was strong enough to defeat them both. But his ‘partner’, Leo, was so slow in casting his spells. It took more time for him to summon that tree than for the knight to break away from it. And while the dark mage was taking his time with his enchantments, Berkut was turning into a pincushion guarding him.

“Berkut!” Now Elise’s voice echoed in the icy air. Berkut ignored her like he ignored Kiran and focus on staying evasive. Since his shoulder was busted, he risked injuring himself more with a full-on assault. Plus, he was even warier of the archer, since he proved to be strong enough to penetrate his armor. His only hope was for Leo’s magic to defeat the armored knight before either of them could land the finishing blow on him.

Or was it? The knight, sensing weakness, appeared to be focused on Berkut now. He used that to his advantage to lure her closer to the castle wall, where the archer lurked. The next time Leo’s Brynhildr created another tree around the knight, it sprang up right next to the stony facade. Berkut literally leaped into action by jumping off of his horse and onto the tree. He began scaling it hastily, despite the protests from his wounded shoulder and the tree’s violent shaking as it weakened from the knight’s scuffling. Just as it was able to fall apart and disappear into the void, he made it to the top of the tree, where he could actually see the unwary archer below him. His lavender hair and style of clothes looked familiar to Berkut, but he wasn’t able to recognize him. The tree shuddered, a warning to act fast or to lose his element of surprise forever. Berkut leaped with all his might to cross the gap between the tree’s crown and the edge of the wall. His yelling alerted the archer to his plan but by the time he nocked his arrow, it was already too late. Berkut actually managed to land on him and both soldiers crumpled to the hard, stone floor. His shoulder screamed in pain again as well as the rest of his body from the rough landing. He pulled himself up onto his feet while the archer laid there, stunned from the surprise attack and being squished by a knight in full armor. Berkut didn’t waste any time in shoving his lance through the archer’s heart. It sliced through his chest cleanly, although it didn’t feel like he was stabbing a real man. No blood was shed from the fatal blow nor the archer did voice any last words or dying gasps. He just closed his eyes and his body faded away into wisps of blue light that disappeared into the swirling snow.

Berkut took a moment to breath and take in what he just did. He was usually never this creative or flashy with his strategies. Something must have sparked his refusal to retreat and his drive for victory. Perhaps it was the conversations from earlier? He felt the need to prove himself after his insecurities were laid out in front of his teammates? Damn it all! Even during the heat of an intense fight like this, all he could think about what Alm and what his words wrought.

Shouting from below distracted him from his unwelcome thoughts. Berkut glanced down and spotted the knight encased in another tree from Leo. This time, however, the mage was joined by his little sister and his summoner. Elise brandished a dark colored staff with a red glowing gem at its tip that released pulses of magic as she held it skyward. Those waves of energy combined with Brynhildr’s spell to keep the knight pinned down. Unable to shield herself or to break free from her magical prison, she eventually succumbed to their combined mights and collapsed. She too dissipated in a flash of light, like the archer Berkut just defeated. A reminder that their victory was only over fake enemies and not real humans.

“Seriously Berkut! What was that all about?!” Leo shouted from below. He had a cross expression on his face, like he was at fault here.

“I finished off a foe that was annoying me! Unlike you.” Berkut muttered his last sentence so Leo wouldn’t hear it. Honestly, a vile Duma cantor would have been more helpful in this fight than this slow spellcaster.

Now that the knight wasn’t in his way, he could take a set of staircases down to where the others were standing. Elise was healing bruises off of his horse when he arrived and she immediately turned to him once she was done.

“That was so cool! The way you vaulted off of Leo’s tree and ambushed the archer… I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that before!” Her eyes sparkled as she recounted the stunt Berkut just pulled off.

“But it was also very dangerous! Especially with your wounds.” Kiran butted in. “If you had missed and gotten incapacitated, Leo and Elise wouldn’t have been able to take on both the archer and the knight! It would have been much safer for you to pull back and get healed.”

Berkut sneered at her derisive reprimands as he took off the pauldron that failed to fully protect his shoulder. He had to snap off the arrow of the shaft to get it off, and then he pull out the head once he was able to. He tried his best to repress a shriek of pain but still ended up letting out a harsh cry. Elise went to work promptly, waving her staff over the bloodied wound and letting its gentle light wrap around it like a bandage. The burning pain slowly but surely eased into a dull throb. Berkut’s heavy breathing subsided as the wound stitched itself closed before his very eyes. A few minutes later, his skin was completely brand new and unblemished. It was if it was never struck by an arrow.

“Thank you Elise.” Berkut worked on getting his armor back on.

“You’re welcome- Hey! Did you just say something nice to me?”

“I believe he did.”

“ANYWAY.” Kiran interrupted the two siblings to continue her lecture. “I have half a mind to take you off the team after this mission. I can’t have you jeopardizing everyone again! You have to do what I say or else people get hurt! Including you!”

“Excuse me? I was the one that saved all your sorry hides. Your plan was flawed.” Berkut growled.

“... Maybe it was a little bit flawed. I couldn’t see the archer or his weapon so I didn’t know his special move would hurt you that badly. But-”

“And our ‘mage’ hardly did any damage to that knight! What kind of mage can’t take down an armor knight in one or two spells? He should be the one you’re thinking of removing! Not me! I did all the hard work!”

“You call prancing around like that ‘hard work’?” Leo rolled his eyes. “Your attacks did nothing. And I eventually did defeat her in the end.”

“With the help of your little sister. Who shouldn’t have to been dragged into this fight in the first place.”

“Hey! I can fight too! Don’t count me out just because I’m a girl!”

“It’s not because you’re a girl, Elise. It’s because you’re a healer, first and foremost. And your attacks did more damage to the knight than Leo’s spells, which makes this even more pathetic.”

“My Brynhildr is not as effective against lance wielders! Kiran should know that!”

“I do! But to be honest, you were kinda slow in that last fight.”

“Ha! See? Even the summoner agrees with me.”

“Uh, guys?”

“You’re turning on me too? I thought you were on my side!”

“But it’s hard to deny that you underperformed against the knight. Maybe I should have brought Cecilia instead…”

“Oh come on! Didn’t you calculate for everything when making your plan?”

“I was calculating how much damage Berkut could take before retreating. I didn’t calculate how much damage your magic would do because I thought you’d kill her fast enough.”

“Retreating was part of the plan?!”

“Not necessarily, but-”

“GUYS!” Elise’s high pitched cry caught everyone’s attention. “Sigurd needs our help!”

She pointed towards a ragged-looking knight that was riding towards them with alarming speed. Sigurd held the reins of his horse with one hand and his sword, Tyrfing, in the other. Which leave him no way of keeping the gash across his chest from bleeding freely, save for the cloak he wrapped around it. It still bled through the cloth, however, and turned it from a brilliant blue color to a dirty maroon.

He slowed down his horse once he got close enough to them. That allowed him to clutch his wound. It didn’t stop the bleeding, but it eased his pain a little bit. He let out a groan as Kiran and Leo helped him off of his horse and laid him on the ground so Elise could tend to his injuries. She pointed her staff at him and waved it around, much like what she did to heal Berkut’s wounds. The laceration glowed like the gem in Elise’s staff, but it took longer for it to close because it was much deeper and in a more delicate area. Even after she had finished, Sigurd’s chest was still red with dried blood and newly renewed skin. And he had many other cuts that needed attending to. Elise got to work on them right away, but it was apparent that it would take a while to completely heal him.

“Sigurd, what happened?!” Kiran couldn’t help but shout in desperation. “Did that myrmidon do this to you?”

His voice was a mere croak at first. He had to have a drink from Leo’s water pouch before he could speak clearly.

“No… It wasn’t him. It was… Watch out!”

Sigurd bolted upright and cringed when his injuries flared from his sudden movements. Everyone but Elise, who was trying to make him settle back down, glanced in the direction Sigurd came from. In the distance, a lone figure with a sword in his left hand could be seen. He was walking slowly towards them and wouldn’t arrive for at least a minute or so due to his leisurely pace. Yet he somehow still seemed intimidating and sent chills down their spines. Possibly because they knew the damage he was capable of.

That didn’t dissuade Berkut. He could recognize that silhouette from anywhere. He had seen that boy lead armies against him, hold sparring matches with him, lie to him. It wasn’t actually him. He knew that. But much like how the Training Tower conjured battlefields based off of real places, it also created opponents from familiar friends and foes.

How ironic that this last guardian could take the form of the one man Berkut couldn’t stand. His chuckles turned into full blown, crazed laughter as he mounted his horse and readied his spear. Perhaps it was fate that he met his ‘cousin’ here on a completely unrelated mission. If he could defeat this Alm here, then he could beat any other Alms that stood in his way. He had to do this! He had to succeed where he failed this morning and many times before!

“Berkut! Wait!” But the ebon knight ignored Kiran’s call and spurred his horse onwards. As he approached Alm, he could see why the boy was moving so slowly. A deep gash that spilled no blood marred his right leg, reducing his gait to a limp. That just made him an easy target then. Berkut was several meters away and was closing in rapidly. He held up his lance so he could skewer the ghostly opponent through his chest.

Except something was off. Alm radiated this tremendous aura of heat and fury. He felt this before during the spars with the real Alm. But this haze surrounded his entire body, not just his left hand. Berkut’s instincts told him that his lance wouldn’t survive a blow from the Falchion, and neither would he.

But he was so close already. He was moving too fast to stop, so the only chance he had at surviving was to press onwards with his assault. And honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Berkut let out a bloodthirsty yell as the point of his spear aimed for Alm’s heart. At the same time, the air around Alm intensified and he lifted his sword to prepare for his counterattack. They were practically within arm’s reach of each other when a tree suddenly burst out of the ground between them. It halted Berkut’s attack successfully since his lance bored into its bark and remained there, while Alm’s Falchion and the fiery aura around it smashed into the tree. The surge of energy that Alm brought was too much for the tree to bear. So it exploded, sending splinters and sawdust flying everywhere. Berkut and his horse were knocked backwards, although only the rider actually fell onto the ground. He rolled in the snow a couple of times before stopping on his back. His vision was blurry and his ears were ringing but he tried to pull himself back up anyway. As he slowly recovered, he looked around frantically for his lance. The glistening silver weapon was half-buried in the snow several feet away. His legs were still unstable from the explosion so he had to crawl in order to reach it. How humiliating. He knew that tree that interrupted their clash wasn’t a coincidental aberration. One of his teammates summoned it purposefully to stop them. And here he was right now. The hooves of his black horse deliberately stepped around and over the spear to prevent him from grabbing it. Realizing that he was on his knees before him, Berkut hastily stood back up so he didn’t look like he was grovelling.

“What’s the meaning of this?” He snarled at the mage.

“I should ask you the same question!” Leo replied back. “Did you not notice that ferocious aura our new opponent has? Sigurd was telling us about it right after you left. His attacks must have kindled it somehow and it’s indicative of a special move that would defeat any enemy combatant instantly. But surely you know of it already, since you have battled the real Alm so many times yourself.

“And yet you charged in like an idiot anyway. I had to use Brynhildr to stop you from getting killed.” He finished his relaying with a sigh.

“Believe me, I have no intention of dying to him.” Berkut understood his explanation but he was still not amused by the stunt he just pulled. “Like you said, I have fought with Alm many times before. I know all his moves by heart. There’s no one else that can beat him but me. So step aside.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I’m not the only one that doesn’t believe that.”

“Berkut!” A familiar feminine voice rang out. Behind Leo rode Elise and Kiran, followed by a just-healed Sigurd.

“I’m so glad Leo saved you in time! You’re not hurt from that explosion, are you?”

She held out her staff in case he did need healing. But her words stung more than his burns did. He dismissed her with a scowl and a wave of his hands. “I am fine. And Leo did not save me. He only stopped me from carrying out my destiny.”

“That’s a load of bull!” Kiran exclaimed, much to his chagrin. “Honestly. This is what I was talking about before! You keep gallivanting off, thinking that you can take care of things by yourself. Sometimes you can, but sometimes you can’t. Especially not now. Do you know how Alm won the war and became king?”

Berkut hated how much today’s conversations have been about Alm. But he couldn’t fault the summoner from bringing him up this time, since she was trying to get his attention.

“He won his battles, presumably including ones with His Majesty and I.”

“And do you know how he won those fights?”

“He was strong. And I imagine he pried the Falchion from my uncle’s cold hands at some point.”

“No! Well, there’s no denying that he’s strong, but that’s not the reason for his success. The real reason was because he had supporters! Childhood friends from his village, members of the Deliverance, Celica and her friends. He couldn’t have done it alone. And neither could you.”

Berkut just glared at her in silence. He knew how to cooperate and play nice with whatever teammates she decided to pair him up with. Even if they were moronic and immature like Elise and Leo. How dare she lectured him on something so basic, like he was a squalling brat himself! He didn’t have time for this! The phantom Alm was still back there and no doubt shambling to resume the fight he had started with them.

“Did you think you could’ve taken on the knight and the archer by yourself? Without Leo providing magical support, Elise providing healing, and Sigurd taking on the other flank?”

“Hold on.” Berkut interrupted. “Why are you lecturing me about ‘gallivanting off’ when Sigurd just did the same moments ago?”

“Because that was part of the plan. Whatever you’re doing is not! And it’s going to get you killed!”

“Your plan almost got Sigurd killed too! He was ambushed by a swordsman you did not account for and now we have to deal with it!”

“Exactly! Sigurd did the right thing in coming back to fetch us all! Because now we’re all in this together! Something that you don’t get!”

“LOOK OUT!” The aforementioned lord jumped over the squabbling pair in order to deflect an attack with his sword. Alm made it to the group during their argument and only Sigurd reacted fast enough to prevent an untimely demise for everyone. The two holy weapons generated sparks when they came into contact. Because Sigurd was on a horse and no longer suffered from any wounds, he was able to push him back. Alm managed to stay balanced, but he acted more cautiously now that he wasn’t able to surprise attack anyone.

“Nnngh. This is my fight!” Berkut couldn’t let himself be distracted by Kiran or anyone else. He knelt down to grab his spear from the snow, startling Leo’s horse. He was lucky that he didn’t get a kick in the head for his troubles. But perhaps that was more proof that he had to join in on this fight. He beckoned his own horse and saddled up in an instant. Despite Kiran’s protests, he rode onwards to join Sigurd in battle.

A battle with two cavaliers versus an infantry swordsman should have ended relatively quickly. But the phantom Alm had no regards for his less-than-favorable-odds and continued to fight with all his might. When Berkut ran up to stab him with his lance, Alm blocked him with his Falchion. When Sigurd swung his own sword at the occupied foe, Alm pushed Berkut away and hopped backwards to avoid his attack. When they charged at him in unison, the illusionary guardian stepped gracefully to one side and deflected the sword that awaited him at the other side. It seemed like his injured leg wasn’t slowing him down at all. He still moved like a dancer as he danced and blocked around their strikes.

He wasn’t completely invincible though. Occasionally he slipped up and got sliced by Sigurd’s sword or Berkut’s lance. And he was on the defensive. He couldn’t retaliate while trying to evade two horsemen. If he did attempt to counterattack, his target would just dash away, out of his range. Each time he was hit, however, the air around him heated up by a degree or two. Berkut could tell that it wouldn’t be long before his ‘special move’ would be charged and they would have to change their tactics.

So he aimed to finish this fight before it got to that point. The ghostly Alm was moving quicker than ever, even though he was bleeding from numerous stab wounds and slashes across his body. Sigurd attempted to rush him again, but this time Alm charged towards the paladin as well. As soon as Alm raised his sword, Berkut knew instantly the technique he was going to pull off. But he couldn’t warn him in time before Alm created a buffer of wind with a powerful swing of his sword. The sudden gust startled Sigurd’s horse long enough so Alm could dash in and strike. Sigurd forced his horse backwards enough so it didn’t get stabbed, but in doing so left himself in a vulnerable position. Alm’s blade slashed into the knight’s sword arm and then into the side of his ribcage, right below his shoulder. Sigurd yelled in pain and swung his sword wildly, despite his injuries. The frantic counterattack didn’t meet its mark, but it did cause Alm to take a few steps back.

Their current positions were unfavorable, to say the least. Alm was in between Sigurd and the others who have yet to join in on the fight, so he couldn’t retreat to get that wound attended to. Berkut couldn’t either, being even further away, but he didn’t want to anyway. Ordinarily, Sigurd might have been able to power through Alm, even with his injured arm. But those last attacks kindled the phantom’s inner fire and now his aura was at a palpable blaze. He wasn’t going to allow him to run away now. Alm lunged at Sigurd with incredible speed, more than what was humanly possible. Sigurd stirred his horse into a gallop but there was no way he could outrun him. And Berkut couldn’t catch up to them in time either.

But he tried to anyway. The hoofbeats of his horse clattered on the stony road that was uncovered by their frantic fight. He leaned forward so they could move faster and held up his lance in preparation for the one chance that he had. Even if he couldn’t save Sigurd, his defeat would give him an opportunity to land a decisive blow. All he had to do was to time his pace correctly. If he reached him too soon, he would find himself in the middle of Alm’s rampage. If he reached him too late, the enemy would have already recovered.

Berkut was only a few meters away now. He had carefully calculated his course, but it ended up being all for naught. Suddenly, Alm’s movements slowed, as if he was suddenly weighted down by a great force. His legs became sluggish, then refused to move. He couldn’t stand upright anymore and knelt down on one knee. As soon as his hands touched the ground, roots from deep inside the earth sprouted and wrapped around them. The many roots converged into a tree trunk that engulfed his body, leaving only his head uncovered.

Berkut stopped in his tracks so he wouldn’t get tangled by the roots too. Someone that didn’t know any better might have seen this miracle as grace from the gods. But Berkut spied two of his teammates in the distance. One of them waved her staff in the air; its usually blue gem glowed a fierce red. The other man held a tome that was surrounded by a sinister purple light and his lips chanted a spell he couldn’t hear. Even if they messed up his plan, he supposed that this was a better outcome. Sigurd didn’t have to die, and he still had a chance to finish this.

“Berkut!” Kiran’s shouts were faint due to the energy pulses from the two magic users next to her. “Finish him now!”

He didn’t need her to tell him what to do. The tree that trapped Alm in place was already beginning to disintegrate, thanks to his fiery aura. Berkut turned his horse around and walked backwards several feet to give himself sufficient distance for a final charge. As soon as he was far enough, he spurred his horse onwards, becoming a black streak that raced across the pavement. He did not hold his lance up this time, but angled it downwards so its tip scraped against the ground. Sparks flew as the sharp steel point scratched the stone road. Eventually, the tip turned a bright orange color due to the heat generated from the immense friction. Then it somehow set itself ablaze, much to the surprise of his onlookers. He was merely a few feet away when he lifted his lance back up and aimed it at Alm’s heart. By then, the phantom had freed itself and prepared to strike back. But when Berkut swung his lance, an arc of flames trailed from it, startling his opponent. He waved his spear around several more times to cast its fire everywhere. The flames grew from a mere distraction to an actual threat as it lit up the remains of the tree that once imprisoned Alm. And then, before his blazing weapon was put out by the falling snow, he let out a ferocious shout.

“Meet your end!”

His lance met its mark and stabbed Alm right through the chest. Upon being skewered, the boy sputtered. His hands feebly grabbed at the pike that was driven into him, as if he could pull it out somehow. But it was firmly stuck in place and his strength was rapidly fading. Large green eyes flitted upwards from the lance to Berkut. Before the spark of life in them disappeared as well, the phantom did something no other phantom did before. He spoke.

“Berkut… why…”

His eyes fogged over and then closed for good. Alm’s body went limp just before it glowed a gentle light blue. Then he too joined his fallen comrades by dissolving into a flurry of sparkling wisps.

Berkut was honestly a little shaken by what he just heard. The phantom enemies of the Training Tower were completely mute, even when they were in pain or were about to die. The fact that this guardian, who took the appearance of his arch nemesis, whispered his name as his last words meant something. Didn’t it?

No. This magical spire was not privy to anyone’s thoughts. It only manifested Alm coincidentally. And then this Alm only spoke to unnerve him further. Berkut pulled back his lance and examined it to make sure it was still in good condition after that last stunt he pulled. Its tip was a little scorched after being dragged across hard rocks. But it’s nothing that a bit of polish and care couldn’t handle.

“Berkut! That was amazing!” Elise exclaimed after she and his other teammates rejoined him. “I didn’t even know you can set your lance on fire like that! You have to teach me how to do that sometime!”

“I’m afraid my special technique won’t work for your staff.” Berkut replied plainly. He should be more enthusiastic about his victory, but he didn’t. He felt hollow inside instead, and perhaps a bit melancholy? It didn’t even make sense why he was feeling sad over the ‘death’ of his rival. But he was.

“Ahem.” A polite cough from Sigurd attracted her attention away from the hero of the hour. Elise gave him an apology with a smile while she held up her staff. While she was healing the injured knight, Leo also had words for Berkut.

“So. Um.” Leo stammered for a bit before he cleared his throat to start over. He was obviously uncomfortable praising someone that was mostly antagonistic to him before. “Nice job back there.”

“Thank you. You... also performed adequately.”

“Hm? Did I hear that right?” The Nohrian mage squinted his eyes like he couldn’t believe what Berkut just said.

“Yes.” Berkut also narrowed his eyes into a glare. Then he remembered that he was actually trying to be friendly and softened his expression. “The immobilization spells from both you and Elise allowed me to land the finishing blow. I could not have done it without you two, like what Kiran said.”

It pained him to admit that the summoner’s sappy speech about teamwork was right. But since Leo reached out with his awkward compliment first, he was obligated to return it. And what she had said earlier had a kernel of truth in it. That despair he felt when he realized that Sigurd might fall to Alm… He was glad that his teammates were reliable for once and stopped that potential tragedy from happening.

“HA! So you’re finally listening to me!” Kiran let out a loud laugh upon hearing his confession. “I wish that it didn’t take Sigurd in serious danger to realize that, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“But why did you wait until the last possible moment to cast your magic?” Berkut asked, interrupting Kiran’s gloating.

Leo glanced away with a sheepish look on his face. “The enemy was moving too quickly and unpredictably to pin him down accurately. Also you guys were too close to him and Brynhildr might have hit you instead.”

All valid excuses, but they were still excuses. If Leo was a better mage, they might have been able to avoid this mess entirely. Berkut held his tongue on the matter, however. He didn’t wish to invite more animosity, not when they might have put aside their differences for once. And Kiran had already moved on to what was arguably the most important part of the mission: the reward.

The inside of the castle was a lot smaller than what its daunting exterior suggested. They only had to enter the now unguarded gate, travel down a long corridor, and push open a set of tall wooden doors to collect their prize. An important looking treasure chest sat in the middle of the final room. Kiran darted over without any regard for potential traps. Not like she needed to, since as far as Berkut knew, the room that held the tower’s treasure was never booby trapped. Everyone assembled around her as she carefully lifted up the lid of the elaborately carved box. A light seemed to be emanating from inside but it quickly went out when she reached her hand inside. After a few suspenseful seconds, she pulled out a handful of metal badges. They were the color of blood and shaped like the Order of Heroes’ emblem. There was also a pile of rubies inside the chest, but Kiran was more enthused over the badges.

“Finally! The right color!” She beamed at the knights that got her this far. Berkut had no clue what she meant by that. Neither did his teammates, if their blank expressions and silence meant anything.

“Alright! We still have three more stages to fight through before we can call it quits. So let’s get moving!”

“What?!” Both Leo and Berkut shouted in unison. When they realized that they spoke in sync, they averted their gazes and didn’t say anything else until they wordlessly determined who would continue the thought they shared.

“You did not tell us that we were going to partake in four battles today! What’s the meaning of this?” Berkut protested.

“Well, I need a lot more of these badges. And today’s the only day to reliably get them until next week.” Kiran said matter-of-factly, as if he should know these things.

“But I’m tired! We’re all tired…!” Elise let out an exasperated sigh.

“After that last hard-fought battle, I think it would be best if we rested for a little while.” Sigurd agreed.

“Fine. Fine.” The summoner relented. “We can have a break. But I need more badges before the end of today! So let’s not hang around for too long.”

* * *

The sun’s fading rays were turning the dusk sky orange when Horse Emblem Squad B returned from their grueling mission. They barely had the energy to board their mounts at the stables, eat dinner, and put away their equipment. Fortunately, Kiran rewarded them all with a day off tomorrow, so they could rest easy for tonight.

Berkut, however, did not have a relaxing evening. Now that the adrenaline from the battlefield had died down, his thoughts about Alm returned to plague him. He had no doubt in his mind that they were cousins. Despite Kiran’s eccentricities, she had no reason to lie about that. And, since she was his summoner, he trusted her completely. Which also meant that Alm’s future as the king of Rigel was also true.

That intrusive news sent chills down his spine when he thought about it again. Not only could he not stomach that boy being the ruler of his beloved country, that supposed destiny also had unfortunate implications for himself. Before, Berkut came to the conclusion that he died while protecting his homeland against Alm. But today he proved that he had the strength and the tenacity to defeat him. So did he really fall to him? Kiran never actually said he died. Only hypothesized it. Perhaps he had actually lived then? No, that wasn’t possible either. The way that Alm spoke, he sounded full of regret. Like he never had the chance to be this friendly with his long-lost cousin. Either Berkut held contempt for him for the rest of his life, or his previous conclusion was actually correct. Yet if it was, it still didn’t feel right to him. He felt in his gut that there was more to his demise than he thought. And he couldn’t get the answer he wanted from the royal library, according to Kiran. Which meant that…

“Huh? You’re asking  _ me _ to spar with  _ you _ ?”

Bread crumbs were scattered around Alm’s mouth, which only added to his look of surprise. Berkut sought him out specifically in the mess hall during the next day’s breakfast. He didn’t care that he was with his friends and they were equally as shocked about this confrontation. Let them spread all the gossip they wanted. This was more important than any potential rumors they could create.

“Yes. At 8 ‘clock, meet me in the courtyard where we always fight. Bring the Falchion.”

“Of course. I mean, I’ll never say no to a sparring match with my cous- rival.” Alm quickly corrected himself. He appeared to be still anxious about using the ‘c’ word around Berkut after yesterday’s reaction. But seeing that he didn’t even flinch when he accidentally implied it, he figured out something was up.

“I’m the one usually seeking you out though. And I had to practically beg in order for you to agree. So what’s with the sudden change of heart?”

“Simple. If I win, you will tell me how I died.”

“How did you hear about that?” Alm’s eyes widened in astonishment.

“The summoner and I had a talk yesterday. She also said that you became Rigel’s king after the war.”

“Did she? Damn it! I can’t believe she did that!”

“So do you agree?” Even if Alm refused his conditions, his reactions confirmed part of what he needed to know. But it still wasn’t enough. He was hellbent on getting the full truth, one way or another.

“Yeah. But do you really want to know what happened to you?” Alm frowned. “It’s, well, not a happy ending. Also what do I get if I win?”

“We have no need to decide that because I will beat you. I’m certain of it.”

The downward curve on his face flipped upside-down into a smile. “That’s what I like to hear from you! You got yourself a battle!”

Berkut didn’t offer a smile back, but simply nodded and walked away. He intended to grab his armor and weapon and warm up a bit before the sparring match. Before he could head off to prepare though, a cloaked figure spotted him exiting the mess hall and waved frantically.

“Berkut! Just the man I was looking for!” Kiran shouted almost gleefully.

When the summoner was this cheerful, that usually meant something was up. Berkut braced himself for something idiotic like a surprise mission or idle, pointless chat. He certainly wasn’t expecting her to hand him a circular badge of some sort. It was made out a red, lightweight metal and had an image of a shield deflecting a line inscribed on it. It may look like an ordinary object at first, but once he had it in his hands, he felt great power emanating from it.

“What is this?” He inquired.

“It’s a Sacred Seal!” Kiran proudly replied. “Remember those badges from the Training Tower yesterday? I needed those to forge this!”

“You made this?” Berkut couldn’t imagine those skinny arms lifting a heavy hammer. She shook her head to confirm his thoughts.

“It’s a magic forge. You chuck coins and badges in, it spits seals back out. Anyway, since I only managed to make this because of your efforts yesterday, I figured you get to be the first one to try it out!”

That was surprisingly thoughtful of her. Berkut studied the badge he held in greater detail. There was no pin or hook or anything on it to indicate how it was to be worn. He remained silent, but Kiran picked up on his confusion and pointed to her own chest.

“Just slap it onto your armor. It’ll stick and won’t come off until you purposefully take it off.”

Berkut followed her suggestion and placed it above his heart. It attached automatically and with surprising force. No matter how much he prodded it, it remained firmly secured. Once it was on him, he felt that same immense power course through his body. It offered him a feeling of security and confidence. Like his armor was more reinforced and there was nothing that could pierce through it.

Bewildered by this new sense of sturdiness, he asked, “What does this Sacred Seal do?”

“It gives you more defense when you’re attacked by an enemy. It should be useful for your fight against Alm today, right?”

“How do you know about that?” He glared at her. He had only just arranged the match several minutes ago. Interesting news often travelled fast in the Order of Heroes, but not this fast.

Kiran just shrugged in response. “I just hear things. Well, I better be off then. Got other things to take care of. Good luck with your spar though! Maybe if I have time I’ll stop by and cheer you on!”

And she dashed off in a hurry. Berkut was slightly annoyed that she left before he could question her further. But using this seal seemed simple enough. He was really only worried if the summoner actually showed up in the courtyard. The image of her acting as dumb as ever for Berkut’s sake was so humiliating, he might lose due to embarrassment instead.

* * *

The minute hand of the clock tower that rose over the courtyard inched towards the number 12. Berkut was here early, in full armor and with his newly polished spear. The scarlet Sacred Seal stood out against his ebon chestplate. When he first realized how noticeable it was, he was slightly concerned that it basically painted a target on his heart. But the palpable power that emanated from it reassured him. There was no way Alm was going to break through his defenses today! He was certain that he will emerge victorious!

Soon enough, a familiar teenager walked onto the dew-ladened grass. He twirled his sword around a few times like a baton before actually greeting his sparring partner.

“Hey Berkut! What’s that you got on your chest?”

“It’s a Sacred Seal from Kiran.” He replied matter-of-factly.

“Oh? Did you really ask for something to help you win this fight?”

“I didn’t ask for it. She loaned it to me as thanks for yesterday’s mission.” Berkut glared at him for his insinuation. “I don’t need it to defeat you anyway. I am only using it out of respect for the summoner.”

“Yeah? And whatever it is, it isn’t going to stop me!”

The clock tower’s loud chimes interrupted their banter. The bells rang eight times, signalling the current time and the start of their duel. Berkut immediately took to the offensive and charged with blistering speed. Alm entered a defensive stance that enabled him to block his first strike. But Berkut took a step to the side and swung his lance to hit a vulnerable area that he had left open. His decisive blow made Alm falter and step back a little. Berkut couldn’t help but smirk at his successful attack. And his opponent smiled back in return.

“Not bad.” He said while straightening himself. “But how do you like this!”

Alm lunged at him while he swung his sword wildly. A familiar gust of air conjured by the technique flew towards him. The shockwave was too wide for Berkut to avoid entirely, but there was no need to. Even though the burst of wind disoriented him a little bit, he was able to hold up his lance just before the Falchion smashed down onto it. He didn’t feel the tiniest bit stunned by the impact, which meant he could still move his lance to block the next several hits.

But hold on. Alm was moving much faster than before. Last time, he could only swing his sword a few times before Berkut recovered from windsweep and pushed him back. Now, he counted at least four or five strikes. And he was still wailing on him. The Sacred Seal was doing a fine job protecting him from the startlingly high number of attacks. But Berkut wasn’t going to get anywhere if he just stayed on the defensive. After blocking attack number seven, he jabbed at Alm, who hopped back a feet or two in response. He made a couple more stabbing motions to keep his foe on his feet. Now the tables have turned and it was Berkut that was harrying Alm. And his armor wasn’t as hardy as the knight’s. The long reach of his lance enabled him to slip past his guard sometimes and thrust into his sides, his chest, his abdomen. Alm felt every impact and recoiled with every hit that connected. Which gave him more opportunities to attack and wear him down.

Alm had enough of that and ran off to the side where Berkut couldn’t reach him. He was breathing heavily and visibly exhausted. Berkut had never seen him this badly beaten before. But he didn’t dare give him a moment to rest and chased after him. During the few seconds of running, he heard an excited cheer in the distance. Two excited cheers, in fact. He knew in an instant that Kiran wasn’t the only one encouraging him. Elise was here too, which meant Leo and Sigurd might also be present.

“Go Berkut!” Elise yelled. “You can beat that jerk!”

He was a little embarrassed, like he predicted beforehand. But their support also actually touched him, in a way. Knowing that people were rooting for him stirred his fighting spirit into a frenzy. He had to beat Alm now, for their sakes too!

But the cheering also spurred his foe. He got back on his feet in a split second and rushed out to meet Berkut. His left hand glowed as the heat around it intensified, a sign of an imminent battle-ending move. Yet he wasn’t as intimidated by it as before. With his spear, he could knock him down before his sword could even make contact. And with how weak Alm was now, it would surely end the match in his favor.

“You have cheerleaders now?” Alm smirked. “I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint them then! TAKE THIS!”

He suddenly kicked off of the ground and jumped upwards. He leaped high enough that Berkut’s lance couldn’t reach him unless he overextended himself. As Alm barreled down with his fiercely glowing Falchion, Berkut aimed his spear and thrusted it skywards as soon as he was in range.

The tip of Berkut’s lance missed Alm’s body due to his last-minute twist in the air. It ended up only scraping the side of his chestplate. At the same time, Alm pulled his sword back and pointed his elbow forward instead. His arm smacked into Berkut’s head, causing him to keel over in pain. Alm also crash landed on the ground, but he managed to roll over several times so he wouldn’t injure himself that badly.

All Berkut could see was vague shapes and colors. That blow to the head wounded him more than any other attack this Alm had pulled off so far. His vision remained blurry but his hearing was only marginally affected. He heard shouts of concern, followed by footsteps rushing towards him. Gentle hands steadied him and helped him into an upright position. Then a bright light shone in front of him, sending pain coursing through his eyes. But it dissipated soon enough, along with the much of the dizziness. He found himself face to face a staff-wielding Elise and a worried Kiran. Leo and Sigurd were off in the distance, berating Alm for his reckless move.

“A blow to the head? Geez! That’s pretty low of you, Alm.” Sigurd remarked.

“I didn’t know it would hurt him that badly! I thought it would be better than using the blunt side of my Falchion, at least.”

“Any injury to the head is dangerous, no matter the weapon. It was lucky that Elise was around. Otherwise you would be in serious trouble if something were to happen to him.” Leo chimed in.

“Sorry! Sorry! I got caught in the heat of the moment! I won’t try anything like that again. In a sparring match at least.”

“It was a spectacularly risky move anyway. If Berkut’s lance actually met his mark, you would’ve lost. But I suppose reckless actions run in the family.”

“Hm? What do you mean, Leo?”

“Yesterday, Berkut climbed a tree from Brynhildr to get on top of a wall to kill an archer. With an injured shoulder, no less.”

“Really? That’s-”

Alm turned his gaze towards his cousin before he finished his compliment. Berkut’s vision had cleared up thanks to Elise. But his head was still throbbing a little bit. He was able to ignore that pain for the time being and got back onto his feet. He noticed his lance in the grass a few feet away. Since he dropped it after being elbowed in the head, that meant that he lost the sparring match. Unbelievable.

“Um, Berkut?” The victor walked over with an apologetic look. “Sorry for hitting you in the head.”

“Hmph.” There was no need for the boy to apologize. All was fair in war, and they technically were at war with each other still. At least, Berkut will be when he comes back home.

“I know that you were supposed to win if I were to answer your question.” Alm continued on despite the lack of an adequate response. “But if you want, I’ll tell you about your death now. It’s only fair that you get the complete story. Like I said though, it’s going to be very upsetting for you.”

Berkut stared at him, unable to comprehend the turn of events. He thought that Alm was so passionate about fighting, the only way he could get anything out of him was by defeating him in combat. He didn’t expect him to be so kind-hearted.

Then he turned his eyes to everyone else. Elise stared back with wide eyes, obviously hanging onto every word exchanged between them. Leo and Kiran had more subdued looks but they were also apparently interested in what Alm had to say. And Sigurd… he remembered the lord’s speech yesterday, warning him against being too obsessed with an inevitable future. Yet his stern gaze did not condone him for wanting this knowledge. It was as if Sigurd trusted him to make the right choice for himself.

“After learning about the shared bloodline between us, nothing else can surprise me.” Berkut said after a long period of silence. “But first. I sensed something different about your movements today. Did something change?”

“You noticed?” Alm perked up since he didn’t have to recount his sad tale right away. “Kiran refined Falchion for me, actually. It’s a lot lighter now, like my old royal sword. I can swing it a lot more times before my arm gets tired. Although it also leave me with a lot of weak spots, as you probably saw.”

“Kiran did what now?!” Berkut’s eyes shot daggers at the summoner. She inched away, mumbled something about needing to be someplace, and then ran off. Any goodwill he had for that woman from when she gave him the Sacred Seal was undone by this act of betrayal.

But since she was gone for now, he couldn’t lash out at her. He could only instead ask the question he went through all this for. He closed his eyes to calm himself and only opened them when he was ready.

“Alright. Tell me. How did I fall?”

“Well…” Alm took a deep breath. “You learned that we were cousins after King Rudolph was defeated. I wasn’t there, but the other Rigelian soldiers told me you freaked out and wouldn’t listen to reason. You thought that your rightful place was stolen by a peasant. I can’t say I blame you either. I had no idea about my heritage too, or that it meant I was the true successor to the throne.”

He breathed in again. By the look on his face, it was apparent that this next part was more emotionally difficult to retell. “Then we next saw you in the basement of Duma’s Tower. You… Damn it. I shouldn’t be telling you-”

“I am prepared. Continue.” Berkut urged him onwards.

Alm was still perturbed about the tale he had to tell him. His voice was cracking as he recited the last part of his story. “... Rinea became a witch and you were blessed with unholy power. But we still defeated both of you. With your dying breath, you entrusted me a ring and the kingdom of Rigel. Then you reunited with Rinea and…”

That was it. Alm trailed off because he couldn’t finish the story in a good way. Berkut’s face was as pale as a ghost at the end. His clawed fingers dug into his palm and his teeth clenched so tightly, they were reigniting that fierce headache. None of that pain mattered to him though. He could only think of his beloved Rinea. The Berkut that Alm fought and killed was not the real him. He would never sacrifice his betrothed to an evil god for power that was ultimately not enough to prevail. But the thought that it actually happened in this Alm’s world…

Berkut was a fool. He was going to head down that same path if he continued his lust for power. He still considered himself the rightful heir to the throne, yes, but now he also saw Alm in a completely different light. Here was a man that wasn’t blinded by pride, that seized a second chance with his cousin, that attempted to steer him away from his horrible fate by treating him with kindness and dignity. He supposed that if he did have to die (not because of a temper tantrum, mind you), it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if Alm became king of Rigel in his stead.

“Berkut…” Elise placed a soft hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea that  _ that _ was how you died. I mean, I don’t know much about this witch stuff and Duma stuff, but that was hard for even me to hear.”

“Same here.” Sigurd approached him next. “I know what it’s like to hear about not only your death, but the death of the woman you love. If you ever want to talk to me, I’m always here for you.”

Leo didn’t offer up any kind words, but he expressed condolences through a forlorn gaze. Berkut didn’t know how he would have reacted to anything from the mage anyway. He was already overwhelmed by so many different emotions. If he hadn’t trained himself to be a dignified man from birth, he would be kneeling on the ground and in tears by now.

“You know, Berkut?” Alm spoke up after a moment of contemplation. “I’m glad that you have teammates like them. They make sorrowful times like these easier to digest. I think you’ll turn out fine with them around.”

“And you too.” Berkut added. “You are… You have done as much for me as Elise, Sigurd, Leo, and Kiran. Thank you for sparring with me, and for telling me about my death.”

He extended a hand towards Alm. The younger man graciously accepted it and they shook. The clock tower chimed nine times, as if heralding the start of a newfound kinship between cousins.


End file.
